Monday, January 30, 2012

The Crimson Falls

The sky is always falling
The sun hides her face
The moon guides her freedom
Her mind craves the chase

She will not see you dance
She can not see your pain
She is a lonely flower
That may never grow with rain

As sure as the sun will set
And as purely the moon will rise
The stars align as crimson falls
And all that was... gently dies

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